A Throne of My Own
by Queen Kordeilia
Summary: Lame title, I know. Ingrid finally got a throne of her own. What now? Falling in love with her breather housemate? Can be seen as a prequel to my other YD fanfic 'Alone.' Post series. Rated T for implied sexual activity/reference. If you don't like Piers (/Ingrid) don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Wrote this because I was bored. Some of it might not make sense at all.**

* * *

"Oh for suffering's sake Piers, not again!" Ingrid yelled. This must've been the 50th time this week that Piers was filming her on tape. He kept taking videos of them together (sometimes just her) as if she was going to turn into dust the next day.

"You love it really, my little blood orange," Piers teased. Somehow, that nickname didn't bother her as much as it should have. "Just be yourself!"

"Okay," Ingrid gave in, without further complaint. Since when did she start doing that? "We got another ridiculous post card from Dad this morning..." she started. Piers hummed to indicate that he was listening. "'Oz, an inspired choice. Warm nights without a turtle-neck or scarf in sight. Renfield's enjoying the local roadkill. Dad.' And there's one from Vlad too. Short but sickeningly sweet: 'We've climbed the highest mountain. Namaste.' And they've both signed it too. 'Vlad and Talitha _kiss kiss._' How hideous." Piers sniggered. "Ugh! Promise me we will never get that smug and predictable."

"You have my word," he replied. She gave him a little smile.

Tapping the scrabble board on the table in between them, she said, "Speaking of which, that's not how you spell villain."

"What?" Piers sat right next to her, staring at the scrabble board and realising she was lying. "Don't be a sore loser!"

"Better than a sore winner." She hissed and snarled at him, bearing her fangs and making him jump instantly.

"Ah Ingrid!" he scolded, pointing at her. She backed down. "That's better. Drink your blood tea before it clots." Ingrid looked away and pouted. "Haha! S-P-I-T-E! Spite! Look at that." She glanced at the scrabble board and glared at him before picking up her notebook and pen. "That's 54 to me. Guess who's winning then?" She turned to look at him. "Me." Ingrid huffed and tried to glare at Piers but found herself grinning instead. She raised her pen to hit him. "Ahh, dont!" he wailed, grabbing her arm to stop her.

Ingrid couldn't help but admire how warm his hand was. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she pulled her arm away rather quickly, confusing Piers. This was not going to happen again. Three times was too much, even for her.

* * *

"You really are a pathetic breather, aren't you?" Ingrid scoffed, sitting besides Piers on his bed. She watched in mild disgust as he lay under the covers, coughing severely. After watching him struggle to reach his glass of water on the bedside for a good five minutes, she got up to help him. He sat up to drink it before lying down again.

"Is it me, or are you starting to like me sweetfangs?" he asked cheekily as she stood beside his bed and took the glass back.

"Shut up breather!" she snarled and glared at him, putting the glass down. Piers happily noted that Ingrid's glare was losing its hate.

"You... know... it's true. Otherwise... you wouldn't... be here," he pointed out smugly in between coughs.

"I'm here because I'm bored. It's no fun without you - I mean without a breather to abuse or terrorise," Ingrid replied haughtily, slipping up badly.

"Sure, you just admitted it there," Piers commented, smirking at his crush. Although, he had to admit, it was becoming more than a crush day by day.

"Ugh, I'm leaving breather. You're so lucky I didn't drain you; you'd give me blood poisoning," Ingrid told Piers, who wasn't insulted in the least. In fact, he found her attitude cute.

"Okay, but I should warn you, I might die from this," he lied, as she walked to the door. Ingrid spun around abruptly.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? Although breathers are weak they don't die from the flu. I did go to school you know," she explained.

"I don't have the flu. I have tonsillitis," Piers corrected. "I've had it on and off for years now." Ingrid huffed and left Piers' room.

Later that night, she checked the NHS website and Y!A, just to be sure.

* * *

The next day, Ingrid stormed into Pier's room at the crack of dawn. She didn't even check to see if he was awake before yelling at him.

"You lied! Breathers rarely die from tonsillitis! There's more chance of us having a baby together than you dying any time soon!" Just after she finished the sentence, Ingrid wondered why of all things, she'd mention having a baby with Piers.

Unfortunately for her, the Scottish computer geek was wide awake. "Is that an invitation, sweetblood?" he asked flirtatiously, wiggling his eyebrow.

"Actually, I think I'll kill you now," Ingrid threatened, zooming over to Piers with her vampire speed. To her dismay, he merely gazed lovingly at her as she beared her fangs at him. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she hissed.

"No reason. Just thinking about our B-A-B-Y baby...!" Piers replied.

For some reason, having a baby with Piers didn't seem so bad. Except the trouble she'd get in with the VHC for doing so. She didn't fancy a repeat of the whole Dimidius Chosen One drama again.

"Lost in our thoughts are we? Would you want a boy or a girl? Personally, I'd want a girl... One that looks like her mother," Piers stated wistfully, winking at her.

It took everything Ingrid had not to tear up. Never in her life did she think that a guy she knew would want to have a baby girl with her, let alone one that resembles her. She always thought she'd be alone. Or if she wasn't married by a certain age, she thought the Count would force her to get married again like he did when she was fifteen. And there would be no way out. If that happened, she'd end up marrying some old fashioned loser (like the Count himself) and be expected to give him sons.

Piers coughed, bringing the vampire out of her thoughts. "You'd really want a girl?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Yes," he answered. "A girl with black hair, pearl white skin and brown eyes. And I'd love for there to be Teagan somewhere in her name. It means beautiful. Just like yours."

Ingrid knew she was treading into a dangerous territory here. She was being touched by the nerd's words and it scared her. She was destined to be alone and that was what she would be. So she squashed the urge to run into Piers' arms and hug him.

"Actually, my name means God's daughter. Ugh, dad is so vain! Plus, Valerica is a better name. It's from the Old Country and it means strong."

Piers wanted to say more but he began to cough again. Violently. Ingrid took the opportunity to leave his room using the excuse: "Uh, I'll get you some more water."

As she left the bedroom and walked down the hallway, a lone tear escaped her left eye.

* * *

"Is this water even safe?" Ingrid wondered aloud as she filled an empty glass up with cold tap water. 'Renfield used to drink it, didn't he?' she thought. 'But then again, he consumed all sorts of filth.'

"Of course it's safe," a familiar voice spoke from behind her. She turned to see Piers bustling around the kitchen.

Ingrid walked up to him and shoved the glass of water into his hands. "Here." She watched him as he finished all the water. "What are you doing out of bed?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Piers shot her an amused look when he realised she was actually concerned. "I'm here to eat," he simply answered.

"Well, as you've probably figured out, we're out of breather food," Ingrid stated, sitting on the kitchen table, her legs dangling off the edge. Piers sighed and made his way over to her. The vampire scowled as soon as she saw the puppy dog eyes he was making. "NO. I can't operate breather... vehicles. And I despise puppies, with the exception of Wolfie."

"Can't you use some special vampire power?" he questioned. "And who's Wolfie?"

"I'd still have to know how to drive, telekinesis or not. And you seem to be forgetting something; I can't go out when the sun's up," Ingrid reminded him. "He's my little brother."

"Fine, I'll go," Piers gave in. "How come I've never seen him before? And how is he a puppy?"

"My biological mother, Magda, left Dad for a werewolf called Patrick. Patrick is Wolfie's father and Magda is obviously his mother, so he's a half werewolf, half vampire hybrid. When Wolfie was four, my mum dumped him here and Dad took him in as his own, after a lot of convincing. Then for some unknown reason, she returned about a year or two later and took Wolfie back to live with her and Patrick. That was a few weeks before I met you," Ingrid explained, smiling fondly at the thought of her youngest brother.

"It sounds like you loved him quite a bit," Piers observed.

"Hmm. Well, more than Vlad anyway," the vampire replied.

"So, two out of three of your half brothers are hybrids?" Piers asked in amazement.

"About that, remember my big brother Malik?" Ingrid started and her housemate nodded. "Turns out he wasn't really my brother at all. His mother lied to him about Dad being his father. He never got to find out who his father was before..."

"He died?" Piers finished uncertainly.

"Dust," Ingrid confirmed sadly. "I threw the fool's remains into the fireplace."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that," Piers offered his condolences.

"Hmm," the vampire sniffed, composing herself. "By the way, Vlad's a full vampire now. All traces of his breather side are gone, besides his birth certificate. Dad mind wiped Sally and George at his request. Apparently, he was putting them in danger."

"Wow, your family is complicated."

"Tell me about it... Aren't you going to get your food?" Ingrid queried.

"Yes I am. Well, I'm off, see you later sweetfangs," Piers chimed, winking at the vampire before leaving the kitchen to find his car keys. Ingrid rolled her eyes and went to sit at her throne.

* * *

Recently, Piers had set a few TVs up throughout the castle. Ingrid decided to turn the one in the throne room on and see what the fuss was all about – she remembered the time her father told her that he loved TV more than her. Ouch.

When she turned the TV on, she discovered that a soap was on. Ingrid groaned and was about to change the channel when a particular scene came on and caught her eye.

_A couple were standing together in what appeared to be a kitchen. The woman seemed to be a typical geek with massive glasses and unfashionable clothes. The man however, was the complete opposite. He looked like one of those 'bad boy' types, donning several tattoos and gold... earrings._

_"I'm sorry about your stepbrother Ivona," the man told the woman who was supposedly crying. _Ingrid noted that he had a **SCOTTISH** accent.

_"It's okay Peter. Malcolm shouldn't have foolishly associated himself with the Ramsays! He brought it upon himself!" 'Ivona' sobbed dramatically._

_"Aye, your family's quite messed," 'Peter' commented._

_"I know. I just hope my new family won't be," she replied, touching her 'stomach.' _Ingrid didn't know whether she should've been disgusted or amused. It was so obvious that there was a balloon under the actress' dressing gown.

_"Don't worry. She'll be a nice little lass who takes after her gorgeous mother," Peter patted Ivona's 'stomach.' _The vampire knew she should've found the scene cheesy but the situation was far too similar to... Earlier that day.

_"Oh Peter, I thought you always wanted a boy!" Ivona exclaimed before jumping into her lover's arms and snogging him senseless. Peter placed her on the kitchen counter where she straddled him. Then they proceeded to have a quick shag. _Ingrid was paralysed with disgust at this point. 'Don't breathers make their food there?' she thought. 'And won't that hurt the balloon?'_ After a while, the couple finally separated._

_"Well, I'm off, see you later **sweetfangs**!" _Now, Peter had actually said 'sweetheart' but Ingrid heard 'sweetfangs.' She quickly switched the TV off. That soap was way too creepy; there were too many similarities between the plot and her life! Except the kissing bit. As well as the pregnant bit. And the other bit. Which Ingrid definitely didn't want. Right?

* * *

"I'm back!" Piers shouted. He instantly regretted it as he began coughing wildly. After he calmed down a bit he called for her again, "Ingrid!" Silence. "She must be having a bat nap."

After Piers finished eating and putting everything away, he wandered around the castle searching for Ingrid. He didn't have to look far since he found her in the throne room, fast asleep on her throne. Wondering why she hadn't retired to her coffin instead, Piers spotted the remote control on her lap. Out of curiosity, he grabbed the remote and switched the TV on. To his delight, his favourite TV soap was on.

* * *

Three days later...

"Oi! Wake up breather!" Ingrid yelled from where she was standing, next to Pier's bed. Once again, she had barged into his bedroom, early in the morning. "PIERS!"

Said man woke up slowly, taking his time. "For God's sake, what's wrong my little blood orange?" he questioned upon seeing his love awake in the morning, screaming at him.

"Don't 'blood orange' me! I checked the NHS website and it says that if your symptoms aren't gone in four days, you should go and see your GP!" she shouted. "Or something like that. Anyway, today is the fifth day and you look as pathetic as you did yesterday!"

"Oh don't worry. I don't need to see the GP. I told you I've had tonsillitis on and off for ages. Chronic tonsillitis actually. Since I was a teenager," Piers explained.

"And? Why haven't you had that breather operation done yet?" Ingrid demanded.

"Tonsillectomy surgery?"

"Yes."

"I don't want to."

"WHAT?" the vampire scoffed, raising her voice.

"I don't want to. It's a waste of time," the ill breather replied. Ingrid narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine. I'm too lazy." She raised her eyebrow questioningly. "Honest." Ingrid kept the scary face on. "Okay. Maybe I'm a bit concerned too. Apparently, it's really painful afterwards and it hurts when you swallow your food."

"I'm going to give you even greater pain if you don't get it done," she warned half heartedly, coming closer to him.

"Not going to work sweetfangs," Piers chanted. Ingrid sighed and sat down next to him on his bed.

"At least go and see your GP about it," she suggested.

"Nope." She couldn't believe she was going to do this. All for a breather. Well, if she came this far, she might as well go all the way. And it might be enough to convince the stubborn idiot.

"_Please_." Piers grinned at that. Ingrid wanted to slap the silly smile off his face but restrained herself.

"Well, since my sweetblood insists," he finally agreed, taking her hand and squeezing it. As always, his hand was warm and it made her stomach churn. And not in a bad way.

"You'll pay for this," she muttered, pulling her hand out of his grasp.

* * *

**A/N: Looooooool. Don't even ask.**


	2. Chapter 2

** A/N: I'd just like to say, I used to think Malik and Ingrid were made for each other. Maybe it's because they were both power crazy and emotionally damaged. But then I thought, would Malik really be right for Ingrid at all? I mean, sure they looked great together, even better than Ingrid and Piers do, but would they last? Since they were on the same level of insanity, I think they would've destroyed each other faster before Ramanga even got to try.**

**I think Ingrid needs someone she can trust, someone who can keep her calm and happy. That someone is Piers. If she spent eternity with Malik, she would've constantly been watching her back to make sure he didn't betray her. And what did he do in the show? He betrayed her. He didn't even regret joining the Ramangas. He even tried to save his unlife by getting Ramanga to put Ingrid in his place instead. TBH, I think he liked her but he didn't love/cherish her. Thus, I don't think they were meant to be at all. They would've been better off as siblings.**

**Anyway, since that's out of the way, on with this weird story.**

**IMPORTANT NOTICE. THERE'S A POLL ON MY PROFILE ABOUT WHICH STORY I SHOULD CONTINUE AFTER I'VE FINISHED DINO THUNDER: A NEW BEGINNING. IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE THIS, VOTE. BEARING IN MIND, I WILL FINISH ALL OF MY IN PROGRESS STORIES EVENTUALLY BUT THE POLL WILL HELP ME PRIORITISE.**

* * *

In the end, Ingrid decided that she didn't trust Piers enough to go to the GP on his own. Why? She thought he would go and kill time somewhere else (maybe with some breather woman) and then come home, ready to lie to her.

"Are you sure you want to come with me?" he asked in concern, leaning against his car. Ingrid was standing at the castle entrance, adjusting her cloak. "I think you should stay at home... It might get sunny later."

"Be quiet!" she snapped, finally stepping outside. "I'll do as I please. I checked the weather forecast; it's going to be cloudy for the rest of the day and it might even rain. Even though the UV rays are still present, they're weak like they are at night. Overall, the weather today is perfect for me to go outside during the day." Piers watched in awe as she walked past him to get to the passenger seat, relatively unharmed. He watched her get inside the car before getting in himself.

"Aren't you going to wear your seatbelt?" he questioned.

"No." Piers didn't bother arguing with her about her safety - he'd lose. Badly.

* * *

Ingrid had never been to a walk in centre or a medical clinic before. She'd only been to hospital once when Vlad was having insomnia. Due to this, going to the doctors with Piers was just plain weird.

She followed him into the queue to the reception. As Piers kept coughing every five seconds, Ingrid looked around. Of course there were breathers everywhere: left, right and centre. As expected, most of the breathers happened to be gawking at her. The few that weren't staring were talking about her instead.

"Wow, she's pretty mum," she heard one of the snotty little breather kids say. _Of course._

"Why is she dressed like that? This isn't a freak show," one of the nosy old women complained. _Look at yourself._

"She looks like a princess!" one of the little girls exclaimed. Ingrid agreed with that one. After all, she practically was royalty in the vampire world because she was a Dracula, related to the Chosen One as well as daughter of the Prince of Darkness.

"So outlandish. She should be looking after her _poor husband_ instead of wasting her time, dressing up like she's ready to party," an old man grumbled. How archaic. She should be able to wear what she wants. And husband? Really? She just hoped Piers hadn't heard that.

Finally, the pair reached the front of the queue. The receptionist glanced at Piers, then looked Ingrid up and down before looking at Piers again. Ingrid shot her a dirty look in return.

"Which one of you has an appointment?" the receptionist asked.

"I do," Piers answered. "Piers Davis, 11:20." The receptionist checked something on a computer before telling them to sit down.

Ingrid sat down like a Queen and smirked at the people who stared at her. Piers took a seat next to her, amused at both her and the others.

"Everyone's staring," he stated the obvious.

"Of course they are," she replied smugly. "But why are the seats so close together? Eugh, these breathers are too close to me..."

"Hey, that includes me!" Piers pointed out.

Ingrid gave him a once over before responding. "I know."

* * *

"Take a seat please Mr Davis and...?" the GP trailed off, not knowing who Ingrid was.

"Why do you need to know?" Ingrid asked rudely, staring the GP down as she and Piers took a seat. The GP was stunned by her reply.

"You really need to work on your people skills, my little blood orange," Piers mumbled.

"Um, I was just curious. I've never seen you before - it's always Miss McAllister who drags him here," the GP explained. Ingrid instantly shifted her gaze to Piers. Who was _Miss McAllister_ meant to be? The Scottish man sensed his house-mate's questioning eyes on him and smirked. She was jealous.

"Doctor, this is my friend Ingrid Count," he introduced her. Ingrid just waved at the GP, her eyes still on Piers.

"I see," the GP replied. "Onto the problem. Are you having trouble with your tonsillitis again?"

Before Piers could answer, Ingrid beat him to it. "He's been ill for over a week now and keeps insisting it's nothing. I had to force him to come here."

"Yes, Mr Davis tends to do that. Miss McAllister often had to do the same; she usually dragged him over here by the ear," the GP told Ingrid. Then he turned to the patient himself. "My advice is still the same as before; get the tonsillectomy surgery done."

Ingrid smiled with satisfaction and at the same time, Piers frowned. "You're not going to examine me again?"

"Mr Davis, the last time I examined you, your tonsils were heavily inflated. I doubt the situation has changed," the GP said. "How many times have you had tonsillitis this past year?"

"I didn't count. Around eight times?" Piers estimated. "Don't I have to get a quinsy to get them removed?" Ingrid was confused. What the hell was a quinsy?

"Do you really want to wait until you develop one? Best to remove your tonsils before that happens," the GP replied. "I'll refer you to an ENT surgeon who will discuss the procedure with you as well as the cost and answer any other questions you may have."

"Okay..." Piers responded reluctantly.

* * *

"What is the deal with you and surgery?" Ingrid questioned as she and Piers got into the car. "Are you scared?"

"No," Piers lied, putting his seatbelt on and starting the engine.

"You are, aren't you?" Ingrid repeated.

"Fine, maybe... just a bit," Piers admitted. "But that's not the reason I refused before. Believe it or not, I couldn't really afford it without using up my living expenses."

"Really? You shouldn't have wasted your money on games then..." Ingrid commented. "And you're a technician. Assuming you lived on your own, you should've had loads of money to spare." Unless he had been living with and financially supporting Miss McAllister... That did make more sense.

"Well... family issues got in the way," Piers informed her. "You're familiar with those, aren't you?"

"Unfortunately," Ingrid muttered.

"I don't even know if I have enough money now... speaking of which... When are you going to let me go back to work?" he asked.

"Are you that desperate?" she queried.

"Not really," Piers confessed. "But work is a necessity. And my job is what led me to meet you." The vampire found herself smiling at that and for once, she didn't hide it.

"Yes, it did. Okay, I wont try to kill you when you walk out of the door next time," Ingrid said decisively. "I got what I wanted anyway. You have to get the surgery done."

"You told me I should go and see my GP. You never said I have to go through with the operation," Piers chirped, grinning blatantly. Ingrid bared her fangs and hissed, making him jump. As a result, the car swerved a bit. "Okay, okay, let me drive home safely. I was just joking. I'll get my tonsils removed, I promise."

* * *

After the pair had returned to the castle, both of them went to their respective rooms. Ingrid was changing to go to coffin when her stomach growled. Too lazy to walk, she used her vampire speed to get to the blood cellar.

Funnily enough, the Count had left a lot of blood bottles behind by _accident_ when he moved to Australia. Ingrid knew it was really one of his rare gestures of love towards her. She was ever grateful for that.

Speaking of love, her mind involuntarily wandered over to her breather house-mate. He just loved making her worry about him. What was the point of acting like he wouldn't get the surgery when he had already decided that he would? More importantly, why did she even worry about him in the first place? He was just a breather. Maybe it was because he saved her life (probably) when he got her out of those horrible catacombs.. Or maybe it was something else. Something she refused to acknowledge.

Will had been a breather too and she had foolishly turned him into a half fang. He would've been alive right now if she didn't get involved with him. Just because Will had made her feel special, she took his life away from him and indirectly caused his demise. Will wasn't the same after she bit him. He had developed a dark side to him which Ingrid liked but didn't love. The part of him that she loved was his innocence and overall breatherness. Although the serial slayer destroyed Will's body, she had already destroyed his soul. All because of a moment of weakness. She killed her first love.

And then there was Malik. Oh how she thought he was the one. Ingrid thought that they would rule the Dracula dynasty together as partners... as _mates_. How wrong she had been. He had no intention of spending the rest of his unlife with her. Instead, he teamed up with the Ramangas and got himself dusted. She hadn't forgotten how he tried to get Ramanga to use her as his sunblock instead. He would've happily watched her - and Vlad - turn to dust, leaving him as the only heir and 'child' of Count Dracula. Despite his declaration of hate towards her and everyone else, she still felt sorry for him. After all, they were both so similar. They had both wanted the throne by any means necessary. Even dusting family members in the process if required. And in the end, she got it.

Did she really want to go through it a third time? Ingrid didn't think she could take three heartbreaks. Piers deserved to live a human life with a beginning, middle and an end. Ugh, she was beginning to sound like Vlad. But she was right. She didn't have it in her to let him go so she would just remain as his _friend _for the time being.

* * *

** A/N: I guess this chapter was a lot shorter than the other one. Sorry! BTW, I plan to make Wolfie appear in this fanfic. I miss him! And what the hell happened to Zoltan? He vanished after Erin and Vlad's failed first date. Why?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I've been gone for like a year and a half. This story, at the moment, has the highest poll votes so I'm going to get back into it. After this chapter, the next one will probably be back after I finish my other fanfic. I've still got five chapters of that left so that's still a month away.**

**IceRoseEntity: Thanks!**

**KuroKira MCLOLZ: Thanks. _Little blood orange_ is from the show, it was in this extra clip they did right after Series 5 ended. It was really cute! And an online beau of mine called me** **_sweetblood_ when we were roleplaying as vampires, so I have him to thank for that one.**

**Guest: Thanks!**

**Pumpkin-Wizard: Sorry for making you wait!**

**clare: Why thank you :)**

**Anna Kenderson: I intend to carry this one on, showing how Ingrid handles living with Piers and being his partner.**

**Julia: All in good time, all in good time.**

**Tara Kelly: Thanks!**

**Katherine: I'll take this as a poll vote.**

* * *

_"Jamie isn't the father," she confessed shakily, clutching onto her ultrasound tightly as if she was holding on for dear life._

_"I know," her male companion said, his eyes red and his gaze steely. "It's Peter, isn't it?" The pregnant girl gaped at the man in front of her, unable to form a coherent response. He shook his head in disgust, a dangerous sneer on his face._

_Without speaking any further, he walked towards the door._

_"Stop!" she pleaded. The man turned around slowly, fixing the girl with a glare. "Please don't tell Ivona!"_

_"Why not? She has a right to know that her own husband knocked his own sister up!" he fiercely retorted, his body shaking with anger._

_"Vadim?" a soft voice spoke, drawing both the man and the woman out of their fight._

_They looked up to see a heavily pregnant woman at the door, staggering backwards, as if she was unable to believe what she'd just heard. She stared at her sister-in-law and brother in shock before a jaunty theme tune began playing in the background._

_"Don't miss the special episode on Christmas Eve, only on BBC One," a woman spoke in a rather jolly tone that, for some odd reason, instantly rubbed Ingrid the wrong way._

"Oh for evil's sake, what was that?" Ingrid spat, brushing her hair aside as she relaxed into her throne.

"Peter got Kirstie pregnant. They had a one-night stand before they knew they were half siblings. Kirstie's partner, Jamie, thinks the baby is his, but I'm pretty sure Vadim, Ivona's brother, is going to tell him the truth. And then there's the fact that Ivona herself walked in on the conversation. I wonder how much she heard..." Piers explained, mentally weighing out the options. Ingrid rolled her eyes.

"Oh please, she's obviously going to go into labour on Christmas Eve or something. It's totally predictable. And eww, I am so glad that vampire paternity can be confirmed via blood mirrors otherwise..." she trailed off, shivering at what could have happened if Malik turned out to be her brother for real; they'd slept together many times without using any form of contraception.

"Otherwise...?" Piers prompted, his eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Nothing, you nosey breather," Ingrid replied, taking a sip of her blood tea.

"Anyway, they've got different fathers," he told her, as a matter of fact. The vampiress blanched, almost dropping her tea.

"Oh, that's even worse!" she wailed, a grimace on her face. "They're from the same womb and now Peter's child is growing inside his own sister's womb! Ugh, that's twisted, even for vampires!"

Piers just chuckled, his amused smile turning into a frown soon after. "Because of my tonsillectomy surgery, I can't celebrate Christmas..." he said pitifully.

"For someone who's ill, you sure can talk a lot," Ingrid commented, a teasing smile on her face. "Whatever am I going to do when you're out of action?"

"You'll look after me," Piers responded, lying back on the sofa, "if I'm still alive." The vampire shot the breather a look. "I'm serious; one in fifteen thousand people die after this particular surgery."

Ingrid rolled her eyes, trying not to look scared and burying her fears deep inside. She was a vampire; vampires didn't get scared of anything, especially not death. She reckoned it was time to change the subject.

"So... From what I know, Christmas is a family occasion. I've never done Christmas, even Vlad's never shown interest in it, but I guess it's because we're the furthest away from Christ that you can get. You, however, have never mentioned your family, at all," Ingrid pointed out, genuinely curious about Piers' family.

"There's not much to tell," Piers replied carefully, shrugging his shoulders. "Parents. Sisters. That's pretty much it."

"So, you're the only boy?" she questioned. He nodded silently. "Like how I'm the only girl. Or I am now, according to Dad."

"What?" Piers asked in surprise.

"Apparently, I'm not my father's first daughter, but I am the only one who's still alive. Or rather, undead," Ingrid elaborated. "I almost feel like his favourite now. Favourite daughter, anyway."

"Yeah, and I'm my parents' favourite son," he stated dryly. Ingrid raised an eyebrow, having never heard Piers sound so down before. He was usually in an annoyingly good mood all around the clock, even when she was mad at him.

"So, what's Christmas like?"

Piers' face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh, it's so much fun. Let me tell you all about it."

* * *

"There's something we still haven't thought about," Ingrid spoke up, her voice echoing throughout the nearby corridor as she rummaged about the blood cellar, looking for a particular bottle of blood.

"What's that?" Piers enquired from the kitchen, dicing up some vegetables as he was in the middle of cooking dinner. They were eating slightly late tonight, owing to the fact that they'd lost track of time while chatting.

For once, Ingrid actually wanted to know something about him. It brought a smile to his face despite the fact that she asked about his least favourite subject; she brought it up first without any coaxing or persuading on his part. She was genuinely interested in aspects of his life.

This was good, Piers realised. It meant that Ingrid was opening up to him, something that he gathered was really difficult for her to do. She trusted him. And, to his surprise, he trusted her too; he rarely told others that he had sisters. Family. That was one thing that neither he nor Ingrid ever wanted to talk about but found themselves doing so anyway, unafraid of being judged by the other. The two of them were bonding.

"Who's going to get you from the hospital?" Ingrid asked, heels clicking against the hard stairs as she walked up the cellar and towards the kitchen. "Apparently, it's going to be sunny the day after the operation. I don't want to start 'smoking' near or on the premises if you know what I mean. And besides, I don't even know how to drive."

"I'll get a taxi," Piers replied simply, throwing the diced vegetables into a pot and turning the heat up on the stove. Ingrid set the bottle down on the counter, coming to a stop near her... friend. She regarded him with thinly veiled scepticism, wondering how long it'd take before he realised that wasn't an option. Soon enough, he turned to her with a thoughtful look on his face. "They won't discharge me without a companion, will they?"

"No," she answered smugly, tapping her perfectly manicured nails on the counter. "I don't believe they'll let you go if you say you've got someone waiting at home for you. Number one, it'll sound like you're just trying to get away. Number two, like a nerdy breather like you would have a princess like me patiently waiting for you to show up."

"Oh, you wound me!" he fake whined, dramatically slamming his hand against the area of his chest where his heart was located.

Ingrid smirked, ripping his hand away, about to playfully punch him when she stopped herself. His hand was so warm, especially so as she held it in her smaller and much colder one. The heat from the flowing blood underneath his skin insulated her icy vampiric skin, sending tingles down her spine.

Piers' heart started racing, willing Ingrid to look up into his eyes. He so wished to see the same longing he held for her, or even a fraction of it, reflected in her eyes for him. To his dismay, and secretly to her own, she released his hand and stepped back a little, taking the warmth away with her. That's what if felt like, at least.

"So, have you thought about it yet?" she implored somewhat timidly, purposely avoiding his gaze.

In the vampire world, timid and Ingrid did not go together at all. But, she told herself, this wasn't the vampire world she was standing in right now. Nor the breather world. It was just her world, her castle, her home. She shook her head as if her thoughts would fly out of her ears. What was she thinking?

"I'll see if I can find a colleague who'd be willing and able to take me and bring me back," he spoke, once again busying himself with cooking dinner.

Ingrid grabbed the bottle of blood and hastily uncorked it, taking a massive swig of it while scurrying into the dining room. In the end, it wasn't a breather world, vampire world, or even her world, but it was a real world.

* * *

**A/N: I haven't written YD fanfiction in a while so I apologise for any inaccuracies regarding anything Canon.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: The dreaded operation.**

**HeathenVampires: Yes, it is. But for how long?**

* * *

"Tell me about something... anything..." Piers pleaded, fumbling with his clothes. Ingrid watched him in mild disbelief, hoping there wasn't any truth to the reason behind his heightened anxiety.

"Piers," she began softly, rubbing her temples. Said man continued pacing up and down the room, giving Ingrid the impression that he'd wear holes into the old and dusty rugs if she didn't stop him soon. "Piers!" she repeated loudly, snapping him out of his paranoid musings. He hadn't even called her sweetfangs once today, that's how worried he was. "How can someone who ventures alone into the monster-ridden catacombs of a vampire castle be afraid of one breather surgery?"

"That was different," Piers claimed, nervously wringing his hands together. "I can risk my life for you, a million times over, but I'm not really sure if ripping my tonsils out, at the risk of death, is really worth it!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Ingrid chided, biting her lip. If she was a breather, she was sure she would've blushed at the first part of Piers' comment. What girl wouldn't? The idea of a man risking his life to save a woman against all the odds was nothing short of romantic. The corners of Ingrid's lips twitched and it took everything that the vampiress had not to grin at her friend's words. Piers' next words ensured that she didn't have to.

"I mean, I really want to see my children be born, grow up and carry on the Davis name... If I die, that won't happen!" Ingrid didn't know which thought annoyed her more: the thought of Piers having children with another woman or the thought of him expecting a child from her.

"Which woman would be generous enough to lend her womb to you, Piers?" she taunted, trying to hide her irritation. Piers stared at her, about to open his mouth with a potentially deadly (for him) answer when the doorbell rang. Ingrid looked back at him to find him rooted to his spot, probably out of fear.

For Piers, the operation was starting to feel even realer than it had the night before leading up to now. The vampire sighed out of exasperation, walking towards the door, smelling breather on the other side. She opened the door to reveal a blonde young woman of around her own age standing there, a brilliant smile on her face.

"Hello!" she chirped and immediately let out a surprised 'ooh' when Ingrid hastily pulled her inside, closing the door before a single ray of sunlight could shine into the building. Before Ingrid could return the greeting, she saw the other woman look past her, excited at whatever was behind the vampire. "Piers!"

"Aileen!" said man exclaimed, holding his arms out wide so that 'Aileen' could hug him. Ingrid watched as the pair embraced, a sinking feeling in her stomach. The last time someone was in Piers' arms, it was _her. _So who was this Aileen? Just then, Aileen pulled away from Piers and looked at Ingrid before walking towards her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Forgive my rudeness," the blonde requested, sticking her hand out to the other woman. "I'm Aileen McAllister."

"Ingrid Count," the ebony haired woman replied, casting a glance at Aileen's hand before looking up at her face. She plastered a fake smile on. "Forgive me, my skin is rather cold. I don't want to shock you."

So this was Miss McAllister? Hmm... she was pretty, Ingrid would give her that, in a way that reminded her of Vlad's first love Erin. However, Ingrid reckoned that she was still the most beautiful woman in the room and she was quite confident that Piers knew that too. Wait a minute, why did she care what he thought anyway? He was just a breather...

Aileen dropped her hand and opted for a hug instead, taking Ingrid by surprise. God, didn't the breather know how to take a hint? The vampire awkwardly patted the other woman on the back, glaring at Piers who was directly in front of her and behind Aileen.

Piers watched the exchange with amusement, momentarily forgetting about his paranoia regarding his upcoming surgery. He was 101% sure that Ingrid's glare meant she was jealous rather than angry; he'd been around her long enough to know what she was really feeling, no matter what she tried to pass the emotion off as on the outside. Aileen really was no threat to their... relationship... but Ingrid didn't have to know that just yet. If Piers played his cards right, the whole situation could work to his advantage.

After cursing Piers with her eyes, Ingrid managed to push the blonde breather away. She fake coughed, gently rubbing the centre of her chest. Her actions had their desired effect.

"Oh my, are you okay?" Aileen asked, genuinely concerned about Ingrid's health.

"Yes, I'm just feeling a little under the weather. In fact, that's why I can't take Piers to the hospital or bring him back home," Ingrid explaining, feigning a look of dismay and helplessness.

"Don't worry, that's what I'm for!" Aileen reassured her, resuming her naturally cheerful demeanour. She checked her watch and looked up at Piers, quite alarmed. "Piers, we have to go now!"

"A-Already?" Piers squeaked in a panicked tone. "Can't we wait a little longer?"

Both women rolled their eyes at his childish behaviour. Aileen sighed deeply as if she'd dealt with this a million times before, and strode up to Piers, stopping in front of him. She was only a couple of inches shorter than him (quite a bit taller than Ingrid) so she grabbed his ear with ease, pulling him down to her height.

Piers let out an 'owwwww' and Ingrid openly smirked, impressed by Aileen's bold move. She had to admit, the blondie could be tough when she needed to.

"Piers, will you never change?" Aileen implored, shaking her head. She laughed at Piers' pained expression before dragging him towards the door, looking back over her shoulder at the vampire. "It was nice meeting you, Ingrid. I'll see you tomorrow when I bring Piers back home."

"I'll look forward to it," Ingrid responded, waving at the pair of them. As they closed the door behind them, the vampire found herself wondering just how close Piers and Aileen really were.

She shook her head, willing the thoughts away. She had to go to work today; the VHC was holding the usual monthly meeting today and she couldn't miss it. Piers and Aileen would just have to wait.

* * *

"Miss Dracula," Roquelaire, the provisional leader of the VHC, greeted upon seeing Ingrid saunter into the meeting room.

"Mister Roquelaire," she replied, taking a seat near the other end of the table. She and the men sitting near her exchanged their usual dirty looks before Roquelaire started talking about some policies.

Ingrid wasn't really listening though she made sure she looked as if she was. In the back of her mind, there were endless thoughts and questions regarding Piers and Aileen's relationship competing for her attention. Her cold, undead heart twisted at the thought of the pair in question stealing a kiss or two behind closed doors. Or rather, on a hospital bed. She couldn't, for her unlife, figure out why it bothered her so much.

So what if Piers and Aileen had something going on between them? Whatever. So what if they kissed? So what if they were in a relationship? So what if they were... sleeping together? Just thinking of Piers and Aileen in bed, passionately writhing under the bedsheets together, felt like a stake through the heart. It made Ingrid feel sick to the stomach, something she hadn't experienced since getting blood poisoning from Ryan.

"Head of Clans?" a voice prompted, snapping Ingrid out of her thoughts. She realised that everyone was looking at her for an answer.

"Oh yes, I agree," she said casually, hoping that was the right response.

The table broke out into murmurs of agreement and Roquelaire nodded at Ingrid for her participation. He moved on to the next member of the council and she inwardly sighed in relief.

That was it. No more Piers. She'd worked so hard to get her seat on the council and, after having learnt her lesson with Malik, she wasn't going to give it up just because she was busy thinking about a man.

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**A/N: Review! :)**


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